


The Ice Is Getting Thinner

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Political Animals
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:37:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some of Susan's favorite things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ice Is Getting Thinner

She’s tall. Taller than you anyway, and that’s nice. Because you get a sharp little thrill from having to stand on the tips of your toes to plant a kiss on her.

She’s also got an ass that won’t quit. Not that you’re objectifying her or anything, because that’s just something you wouldn’t do, but it’s true. Her ass is probably your favorite thing about her with her clothes on.

There is a lot you keep just between the two of you. But you like that you’ve found a way to communicate certain things in public without having to let on that there is anything else going on between the two of you aside from this love-hate admiration for each other‘s work.

There’s a smile, for example.

Sometimes, when you tag along on conferences where you bring along your little pen and notebook, simply for appearance sake, you sit in a crowded room, safely out of the way, listening and watching her be the amazing woman you know she is. She commands the entire room and stares down any and all that cross her. Intelligent and eloquent, Elaine Barrish catches your eye--wherever you are--and she smiles in this secret way that only you recognize. It’s supposed to be discrete and this is why you kick yourself for blushing every time, but you can’t help it. And she likes it.

Today, she doesn’t smile. Today, there is a heated debate and you know better than to intervene so you pull yourself way to the back of the room, just another member of the press. There is nothing in this conference that you haven’t already written about, and so you wait like a good girl. Still, you can always learn from her, from every word she utters and every deliberate move she makes. She keeps her cool even through hardened stares at her adversaries and various condescending and childish utterances from her male counterparts who still can’t help but belittle her any time they feel threatened. She’s all strength and class and you know in this moment that you love her. You’ve always known you adored her, but now you know you love her.

You won’t tell her. Not tonight. Because who knows where this is going to end or if it will even end with you in her room, the way things are going.

She’s growing angrier and angrier with every passing minute. You can tell by the cadence of her breath, the way her chest heaves with more collectedness and determination to keep her temper under control.

An especially hateful little troll makes a particularly disgusting comment at her expense and it takes everything for you to stay in your seat and keep from draining the life out of him right then and there. Not that she needs you to protect her, the world knows that’s true, but you want to desperately, to protect her.

Twenty grueling minutes later, it’s over and you’ve lost all hope of seeing her. She will probably retreat to her room without dinner and tomorrow, when you catch a flight back home, she’ll hardly say a word, leaving you to wait for the next trip to touch her. You’re disappointed but you knew what you were getting yourself into when you signed up for this.

You told her it was fine and so as you walk in direction of your own hotel room, you convince yourself that it is in fact fine that you have not touched her in two weeks. Your only hope is that this hotel has a good showerhead.

Before you can pout your way into the elevator however, Roy, Elaine’s favorite bodyguard--and the only one who is privy to this whole ordeal aside from the parties directly involved--gently pulls you by the arm and leans in to you as he guides you in the opposite direction, “Ms. Berg, Madam Secretary would like to have a word with you.”

“She does?” You ask, a little too surprised to enjoy the tiny jolt in the pit of your belly.

“Yes,” He hisses as his tone drops an octave, “Are you crazy? You’ve really pissed her off this time.”

“Me? What did I do?”

She’s been mad at you before. But with reason. You really have no idea what you did and at warp speed you run through the catalogue of events in the past few days, trying to quickly pick out something, anything that could have possibly made her angry with you. Nothing rings a bell and by the time you’ve been lead up the service elevator to the Presidential suite and she’s dismissed everyone from the room save for you, you know you’re really in for it and you’re really and truly fearing for your life.

When the last lucky bastard has left the room--but not before leaving you a sympathetic frown--she wastes no time in demanding, “Did you not hear what just happened in there? Were you not in the room?”

“I--”

“Why would you leave me alone tonight after that fiasco!”

You get it now. The light is on and you fight the urge to smile so hard it’s almost painful. She needs you. You’re at a point when she needs you. You are so fucking happy you almost jump. Instead, you look her up and down, slowly so she knows you’re devouring her completely. So she knows she should brace herself because it’s been far too long. She’s got on that royal blue pencil skirt that makes you a little bit nervous and that low cut silk blouse you know she only wears with those La Perla silky numbers that make you a lot nervous in the best way possible.

“I’m sorry,” You say softly as you slowly stride forward. She’s still pissed--not at you, now you know. She’s got one hand on her hip and she’s ditched her jacket long ago, probably as soon as she walked in here, as it’s laying strewed and forgotten on a chair to the far right. Her brow is furrowed deeply, all the tension evident in her rigid posture. You hope you’re reading her right when you say, “You look hot.”

Her face visibly softens though she’s trying hard not to be affected.

“That guy was an asshole, but I sort of spaced out when you did that thing with your hair--you know, when you flip it to the side? All I could think about was your neck--” She shrug off your own jacket and toss it aside, not caring in the least what happens to it or how wrinkled it gets because she appears to be more than a little agitated. You smile and you’re close enough to smell her perfume as you reach out and touch her neckline with a single probing finger. Her breath hitches. “--and how badly I wanted to kiss it.”

You press your lips softly to the side of her neck and you can feel her pulse, beating faster as you breathe against her skin and she sighs.

“I had no idea you had such a fascination with my neck.”

You shrug as you open your mouth and lick her pulse point, then kiss her deliberately, your palm now flat over her breast, caressing easily as your mouth goes. “I have many Elaine related fascinations. You provide great material.” You gently squeeze the mound and nip at her collarbone with your teeth until she gasps and she’s firmly gripping your hip.

“Do tell,” She says. She’s trying to be the adult here, all serious and diplomatic, but she’s losing it quickly and she knows you can tell. Still, you like this game and dirty talk is something you have yet to try, so you take the bait and instantly map out a plan.

It takes you less than thirty seconds to get to that giant bed that doesn’t really need to be that big.

You pull her hands off your hips as you straddle her and pin them above her head for a second time. She actually laughs and you tilt her head to the side, “What’s funny?”

“You’re a little--forceful today, it’s interesting.”

“Interesting? You find this interesting?”

She sighs and dares to look exasperated, “If you’d stop talking for a minute, I could show you what else I am.”

You kiss her now, soundly and deeply because you miss kissing her. She struggles to pull her hands away and when she grunts her displeasure, you pull back and meet her square in the eye and tell her, as sternly as you can muster, “Now Madam Secretary, I expect you to keep your hands to yourself.”

A tiny little chortle escapes her and she finally sinks against the comforter, relaxing her neck and shoulders as she smiles up at you with her entire face.

“You’re so beautiful,” You tell her. You can’t help the way it comes out either, all soft and lathered in awe. Because you are in awe. Of her poise and professionalism and composure when she needs to be composed and the private moments in which she falls apart and lets you see it.

“Come here.” Is all she says and you kiss her again for a long time before coming up for air and resuming with your fingers moving as quickly as possible over the buttons of her blouse, taking in the sight of her once you reveal that silky lingerie thing that makes you nervous all over again.

You sigh and press your lips to one breast then the other, feeling her shift under you as your hand slides up her abdomen and then curves around her side, your thumb tracing her ribcage. Her breath hitches, and you say against her chest, “I like when you do that.”

“Do what?” She asks, nearly breathless already.

You move your hand between her legs and cup her firmly, pressing the heel of your palm against her until she gasps again and you smile. “That.”

Her neck arches and you kiss her there, all the while her hips reach upward and she rubs herself against your palm. Your head is swimming and you’re already throbbing between your legs so you quickly decide that there’s nothing wrong with taking your time during round two., because right now, you desperately just want to do your very favorite thing about Elaine.

Her underwear rips off easily and when it does, she gasps your name and you nearly come just then. You slip easily between her legs as she spreads them for you, pulling at her own skirt until it’s a wrinkled mess at her hips. Your eyes don’t leave hers until you disappear between her thighs and you take in the heady scent of her, exhaling against the wet, trimmed curls. She fists her hands into the comforter, making a sound like stepping on dry leaves and it reminds you of the first time you did this. It was fall and she was the best thing you’d ever tasted.

You trace your tongue along every inch of sensitive flesh, taking your time tasting everything she gives you, slowly because you know she’ll be done resting soon. Her body writhes and reaches for you. You go from top to bottom, rounding her clit with the tip of your tongue until she begins to moan and her back arches off the mattress. She’s got a handful of her own breast when you glance up at her. She’s molding it and pinching and when you moan unknowingly, the vibration of it gets her breathing heavily. You dip your tongue inside her and you taste another smooth wave of moisture that tells you she’s so close.

“Stop--” She breathlessly pleads, “--come with me.”

You’ve never moved so quickly in your life, you don’t think. And in turn she pulls desperately at the skirt of your dress, her nails scratching your thighs so deliciously, you curse, “Fuck,” And rise up on your knees to pull down the underwear you already know is ruined. She sits up with you and hungrily licks and kisses your waist and stomach through the thick fabric of your dress as her hand quickly slips underneath it and she slips a lithe finger inside you.

Immediately, you hold onto her, hand buried in her hair, eyes closed as you moan up at the ceiling while she moves slowly in and out. You can feel the ridges of her knuckle the way she turns her hand and rubs just the way you like.

“Stop…” You try, but she isn’t listening. Not until you pull gently at her hair lean forward to capture her lips in a kiss that renders her obedient long enough to get you back on top of her. She exhales against your cheek as you kiss, it’s fervent and intense and you don’t even mind that your dress will most likely be ruined after this as well.

Her hand finds its way back between your legs as you push your own between hers and you both find a pace that isn’t very slow or patient. There’s a purpose here and you’re not ashamed to admit it. Later, you’ll fuck her into the mattress but now, you want her to know it’s been too long and she’s telling you she’s missed you just the same, the way her body responds to yours and the way your own aches for her touch.

She pulls away from your kiss, breathless and flushed as she watches you from bellow, her eyes threatening to shut as your thumb circles her clit and she bites her lip with a whimper. It’s here that she begins to pump three fingers faster inside you, harder until you can’t help but still your own hand and your orgasm rocks you silent and motionless above her.

You tremble and eventually simply melt beside her, breathing harshly against her shoulder, her hand still moving in a soothing motion until you’re stable enough and you push it aside, lifting your weight onto your elbow as you resume her undoing. It doesn’t take long. It’s only a few strokes before she’s right where you are, sweaty and boneless in the bed that is far too big.

It’s quiet after, save for the sound of both your breathing as you lay there, your shoulders tightly pressed together, your leg hooked over hers, your underwear hanging from your ankle.

She unexpectedly takes your hand in hers and squeezes it gently before saying, “Stay tonight.”

“Yes.” You say. As if you were thinking about leaving.

And then, she turns your hand over and lifts it, then lowers it and you watch, holding your breath as she presses the softest kiss to the center of your palm. The action means more to you than any declaration of love ever has and you want to cry. When she turns over to look at you, she can see it all over your face and she smiles.

“You’re beautiful,” She says.

You want to tell her you love her, but now is not the time. So you kiss her instead before you sit up and reach behind you to unzip your dress, deciding quickly that Elaine may very well have all of you, even if she doesn’t ask for it.

END

 

 


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